


One Big Messed Up Family

by L3t_U5_D0_That_Aga1n



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Adventure, Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 23:38:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15130241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/L3t_U5_D0_That_Aga1n/pseuds/L3t_U5_D0_That_Aga1n
Summary: In which Herakles discovers that his Uncle and Father are more alike than either'd care to admit.





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

Unexpected Findings

**Percy Jackson and the Olympians is property of Rick Riordan**

"Talking"

" _Thoughts"_

**Line Break**

Mariah took one last look at her compact, dabbing away a stray line of lipstick, puckering her ruby red lips slightly. "Perfect," she whispered, closing the mirror and looking back up.

She smiled when the man who'd caught her attention—a tall, rugged brunette with a clean face, his button-down shirt barely containing his rippling muscles—was still sitting at the bar, casually scanning the room.

But when his eye caught hers, he winked.

Gleefully, Mariah took the opening, slowly sauntering forward, an extra sway in her hips. She flushed lightly as the man flashed her a quick, pearly-white grin, pulling out a stool for her to sit down.

As she got settled, the man turned to the bartender, "Two banana daiquiris, vodka."

Mariah smirked, "Ooh! Never had one of those before. Is it," she bit her lips, "Strong?"

The man smirked, "Depends on your taste. Though, personally, my wife has a much stronger mix back home."

Mariah sat up, tilting her head, "And where is-?"

The man clicked his tongue, "She had to stay home, I'm afraid. Though," his voice dipped an octave, sending shivers down Mariah's spine, "she did say that I was free to…sample."

Mariah flashed the man a toothy smile, leaning forward to grip his bicep. She then paused, gently squeezing the arm, "Oh my! I had a feeling you were buff, but this! You're a regular Adonis!"

The man's smirk faltered, eye twitching slightly, "I'm not fond of that comparison to be honest. Personally, I'd call myself Her—!"

Mariah frowned when the man's face grew stern, glaring past her head. She turned, looking out the window at the passerby's. She scowled, whirling her head back around "Hey, buddy, I didn't come all the way out here just to be—"

She was forced to pause, however, when the man quickly brought up his right hand. Before she could utter a 'what?' he snapped his fingers, and a blast of cool air washed over her face.

Mariah sat, dazed and blinking away tears. What was she doing?

"Your banana daiquiris, Miss."

Oh, of course! She smiled; Icebreakers!

**Line Break**

Herakles grumbled under his breath as he wove his way through New York's. frankly, confusing streets. He'd never spent much time in the city, despite it being the new 'Center of the West'. For various reasons, he stayed in Europe. But Hebe had gotten to talking with someone—one of the Muses if he recalled—and they said New York was the best place for couples to 'spice up the bedroom'. He didn't care much for it—he could (and has) literally walk into a forest and find upwards of fifteen willing partners—but Hebe was ecstatic for the opportunity.

Unfortunately, Alexiares and Anicetus got into some trouble with some Part Ponies the previous night; last he checked, they'd gotten past the sick-to-their-stomachs-phase and were now uneasily resting in the splitting-headache-stage.

Their mother was furious, but Herakles found himself too impressed by the fact that they drank half the German chapter—142 members strong—under the table. Not bad for a couple immortal ten-year-olds.

Where was he…oh right! A cyclops stalking a woman and her child.

The child was a demigod, obviously. Herakles lifted his head up, frowning as the child's face was resting in the crook of his mother's neck. All he could tell was the child had jet-black hair, unlike his mother's soft brown. But that wasn't much, most of his kin had black hair.

He clicked his tongue, lowering his head, it was no matter anyway. The child, regardless of his lineage, was in danger. Speaking of.

Herakles glanced over his shoulder. The cyclops, dressed in a very loose trench coat and a tall, wide-brimmed hat, was awfully determined on following these two. He—or she—didn't even take a moment to acknowledge the fact that Herakles—THE Herakles—was just ten feet in front of her—or him. Although, he supposed he was being awful subtle—just blaring out his power would attract more attention than he wanted at the moment. And it's not like anyone even knew what he actually looked like anymore—especially with that movie that just came out. Why they decided on red hair, he would never know.

Herakles followed the woman for another few blocks, growing perplexed as the cyclops didn't give up the chase, or pick up the pace.

Eventually, they came upon the woman's home, and Herakles decided to end it right then and there before things escalated.

He ducked into an alley, waiting. The moment the cyclops came into view, Herakles shot his arms out, grabbing the monster's sleeves, hurling it backwards.

The cyclops bellowed in shock, arms flailing as it flew in the air. It crashed into a wall with a booming  _THUD_ , falling down among a couple trashcans with a rattling  _CRASH_.

With a calm smirk, Herakles strode forward cracking his knuckles, "I'm going to give you one chance. Give up on the boy and his mother; I'm sure there are enough stray rats for you to snack on."

The cyclops shakily stood up on both legs, glaring at Herakles with his—it was easy to tell without the hat—lone black eye.

Herakles huffed, "Look," he walked forward, "I don't want to kill you right now; monster dust gets everywhere, and I spent an hour getting my done." He stood toe to toe with the monster, smirk still on his face, "So do us both a favor, leave."

The cyclops growled, but surprisingly, stood his ground.

Herakles's smirk dropped from his face, and with a sigh, he took a couple steps back, squaring his shoulders. The cyclops, to his credit, brought up his hands in turn.

Only, the action caused the monster's coat to shift, revealing a glinting symbol hidden in the folds. Curious, Herakles darted forward, shoving the cyclops against the wall and fishing out the symbol. He then stumbled back as, now in proper view, the symbol was shown to be a silver trident.

Herakles's mind was reeling. Why would one of Poseidon's lieutenants be in New York—correction, stalking a woman through the streets of New York? " _Further correction_ ", his eyes widened in horror, breath catching in his throat, " _a woman and her_ _child_. _"_

Slowly, Herakles handed to pendant back to the cyclops. He gulped, "Tell my Uncle that…that I would like to speak with him."

The cyclops growled, shifting his eye between Herakles and the building the woman and her child lived in.

Herakles sneered, "I swear upon the Styx, I shall bring no harm either of them," the night sky rumbled overhead, "Now, tell my Uncle that I would like to talk, in three days' time, on the coast of Ibiza."

The cyclops blinked slowly, but uttered a small vow himself, slinking away as the sky thundered once more.

Herakles let the monster pass without any further trouble, instead leaning against a wall, pinching the bridge of his nose. With a huff, he leapt high into the air, landing on a rooftop. Laying low, coalescing the Mist around him, he peered into the apartments windows, trying to find the woman and her son. He searched for several moments, eventually finding the woman and boy in a kitchen; she, cleaning a few dishes, he, calmly munching on a cookie.

Herakles grimaced as he took note of the boy's features, the family nose being the especially prominent. And then he turned towards the window, revealing a pair of sea green irises. Herakles cursed that fact; it'd be almost impossible to hide the boy's heritage.

Just then, the boy's mother stepped in front of the window, fearfully peering outside. Herakles wondered what she was looking for, until he realized that she was staring at  _him_.

**Line Break**

Sally froze as she caught sight of…something lying on the rooftop across the street. When it shifted, she immediately shut the blinds.

"Mommy?"

Plastering a soft smile on her face, Sally turned to face her son. She walked forward, playfully rubbing his head, "It's nothing Percy," she soothingly cooed, "Just looks like it might rain."

Her heart melted as his lower lip jutted out, a sad gleam in his green eyes, "Does that mean we can't go to the cabin?"

Sally leaned down, planting a kiss on his forehead, "We'll see sweetie. But for now, you need to get ready for bed."

Percy groaned lightly, but at her playful glare he got up from his seat and slowly trudged to his room.

Sally let out a shaky breath, slowly turning her head towards the fridge. She walked forward, grabbing a business card attached near the top. 'Brooklynn's Monster Megamart—Gabe Ugilano: General Manager' it read. On the back, a hastily, messily written phone number.

Sally shivered, remembering that…man's gaze on her. But that was the fifth monster this week, and Percy needed protection.

She gripped the card tightly; it was all for Percy.

**A/N: So, I couldn't help but notice that, for the most part, the PJO fandom (and Rick Riordan) have a massive hate-boner for Herakles/Hercules. Which, as an amateur Mythology buff, was always a little irksome. But hey, to each their own. Be sure to leave a review. Later.**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

Promises, Promises

**Percy Jackson and the Olympians is property of Rick Riordan**

"Talking"

" _Thoughts"_

**Line Break**

Herakles sneezed as the light faded away revealing his home on the outskirts of Olympus. Even after all these years, he still couldn't teleport without upsetting his nose. Apollo and Asclepius both told him it was psychosomatic; Herakles chose to believe that the ethereal remains of some long-forgotten light deity was seeking petty revenge for something he had done in the past.

He eyed his home—a four-story plus basement gift from Athena—and strode forward. When he reached the door, he rested his head on his cheek, wondering how best to enter his home. After thinking for a moment, he nodded. He brought his hand up, hovering just in front of the image of him atop a mountain of slain men and monsters (a drunken jest made to Hermes, who unfortunately took it to heart), and flicked his finger. The door swung open, crashing on the other side with a booming  _THUD_.

"AGH! Dammit, some of us are trying to sleep!" A young, cranky voice exclaimed from upstairs.

Herakles booming laughter echoed throughout the house, "Well, Alexiares, that's what you get for entering a drinking contest with more than a hundred centaurs!"

Anicetus—voice equally young and tired—replied, "Mother's already given us a speech father, save your breath!"

"No, Herakles!" Hebe shouted from further up, "Give your speech! In fact, scream so loud that the stars might come down and beg for silence!"

Herakles blinked at his wife's declaration. Walking up the stairs, he asked, "What have you two done?"

"Alexiares, in his infinite wisdom, puked all over mother's dress!"

"Only after you threw-up all over the drapes!"

"Well that wouldn't have happened if you didn't give me that swill you called a tonic!"

"It was Nectar!"

"Nectar is not green!"

"It was Nectar based!"

Herakles chuckled as he neared their room. With a wide smirk on his face, he flicked their door open.

The two youthful immortals cried out as the door slammed into the wall; Alexiares screwing his eyes shut and clapping his hands over his ears, while Anicetus sprung up, fury shining through his baggy, bloodshot, eyes, "What…was that for?!"

Herakles crossed his arms, "For being stupid enough to go drinking with centaurs during Oktoberfest."

Anicetus dropped his head into his hands, "Fair enough."

Herakles shook his head, scoffing, "…If you still have hangovers come the morning, I'll make you a quick cure."

"Thank you, Father," the two chorused, flopping back into their beds.

Taking care to close the door behind him (he wasn't completely heartless) Herakles continued the journey to his room. Upon opening the door, he was greeted to the lovely sight of his wife in her nightgown, carefully brushing her long, strawberry blond locks.

She looked over her shoulder, face splitting into a radiant smile, "How are the boys?"

He shook his head, walking over to the dresser, taking off his shirt, "They're fine. Still hungover, but fine overall."

Hebe nodded. She put the brush down, turning around to fully face her husband, "Ok, enough about our children's idiocy. Tell me," her voice gained a husky tone, "How was your night?"

Herakles paused momentarily, "Well…I visited the club you mentioned; found quite the crowd."

Hebe's smile turned sultry, "Find anyone," she took a deep breath, "worth the time?"

Herakles sat at the edge of their bed, "Oh, there was this one woman…" he trailed off.

Hebe sauntered closer to Herakles, kneeling down resting her head on his shoulder, slowly rubbing his arms, "And?"

Herakles allowed a smile to worm its way onto his face, "She was…stunning," he admitted, "Her hair, lighter than yours, curled just below her ears, framing her soft, pale face." Hebe hummed, moving her hands to his sides, "She had startlingly blue eyes—accented nicely by her eyeshadow—though they were darkened by her obvious lust. And her dress, dark blue and shimmering like the stars in the sky, perfectly hugged her and all her curves," Hebe inhaled deeply, planting a kiss on Herakles's collar bone.

The sudden contact broke him from his recollection, and he shifted forward, shaking his now perplexed wife off of him. Coughing into his hands, he said, "Unfortunately, nothing came of our meeting."

"Wh-Why not?"

"Just out the window, I saw a monster stalking a pair of mortals—a mother and her son."

With a sharp intake of breath, Hebe placed a hand on his shoulder, making him turn so that he could see the worry in her eyes, "Are they okay?"

Herakles smiled, wrapping one arm around her and pulling her closer, "They are fine, I intercepted the monster before anything could happen."

Hebe exhaled, placing a hand over her chest, "Good thing you were there."

"Well, I doubt he would have done anything," Herakles muttered.

Hebe's brow furrowed, "What do you mean?"

Herakles closed his eyes, clenching his fists, "…The monster...was a cyclopes. One of Poseidon's lieutenants."

Hebe's eyes widened; Herakles could see her connecting the dots. But, she shook her head, as if to keep the picture from taking shape, "No…he wouldn't."

Herakles nodded solemnly, "He did. Poseidon sired a demigod."

Hebe cupped her hands over her mouth, "Oh…what did you do, with the cyclops?"

He shrugged, "I let him go; told him I wanted to meet Uncle in three days. In Ibiza."

"Was that wise?"

Herakles scowled, "Well I couldn't kill him. That would have just sent Uncle into a panic; nor could I have just let him be."

Hebe turned to face Herakles, "Will you tell Father?"

"I don't know!" Herakles flopped onto the bed, pinching the bridge of his nose, "If I say nothing, I run the risk on incurring Father's wrath…But if I tell him of the child, well, we might have a repeat of what happened to Hade's last mortal family."

Hebe paled, back stiffening, "No…we can't have that."

The conversation stilled after that, albeit sparsely broken by Herakles's discontent sighs.

Suddenly, Hebe laughed, "Well, safe to say neither of us are in the mood for any fun."

Herakles replied in turn, pulling her close and pressing a kiss on her forehead, "I'm afraid so, my dear."

The two then sat up, moving around to lay under the blanket, resting their heads and their pillows. As Herakles waved his arm, shutting off the light, Hebe stared up at the ceiling. She pursed her lips, "Do you…do you think Father will show the child mercy, in light of his own transgressions?"

Herakles let out a breath, "Since when is Father known to be fair with regards to his brothers, much less admit to his own shortcomings?"

Hebe snorted, "I suppose you are right," and fell silent, nestling in the crook of his shoulder, falling asleep. Herakles, though comforted by his wife's familiar snores, took much longer to do so.

**Line Break**

Herakles sat atop a rocky cliff overlooking the sea, humming an ancient, wordless tune as he unspooled white thread, adding it to his loom with practiced ease.

A breeze blew in from behind him, and a cursory sniff revealed it to be the sea—though much stronger than the previous breezes.

Footfalls followed the wind, and to his left, a man wearing brown shirts with many items sticking out of its many pockets and a brightly colored floral shirt sat down

The man took a deep breath, "…You haven't told your father?"

Herakles scoffed, setting aside his loom, "And endanger the child and his mother? Please, Uncle, give me some credit."

Poseidon smiled mirthlessly, "Yes, well, thank you for that."

Narrowing his eyes, Herakles turned, idly noting Poseidon's melancholic face, "Why, Uncle? Why would you do this?"

At that, Poseidon smiled wistfully, "What can I say...She caught my eye the moment she said that she thought my trident was lovely."

Herakles blinked, "You mean your weapon, right?"

Poseidon snickered, "Yes, that. Though, she was awful enamored with—"

Herakles waved his hand up, "I don't want to hear it!"

His snicker evolved into a guffaw, echoing into the distance. "Ah…when she discovered she was with child, I offered to protect them with all my might. But," he lifted his head to the sky, "She refused."

Herakles grunted, "Awful stupid of her," he muttered.

Suddenly, the sky, clear and blue, was swarmed with stormy grey clouds, and the sea, previously serene, swirled with rage.

Herakles stood in alarm, staring down at his Uncle. Poseidon lowered his head to look at Herakles, his eyes glowing with power, "You will not insult Sally in my presence!" he hissed.

Herakles sucked in a breath, stepping back in disbelief, "Good heavens…you  _love_  this woman."

Poseidon said nothing, still glaring at Herakles. After a moment, his face softened, and the sky and sea cleared up as quickly as they grew restless. Poseidon turned to stare at the horizon, "…She's just so…positive," he whispered, a small smile on his face. "Her life was hard—perhaps not by our standards, but for a young woman in this age," he clicked his tongue, "The Fates were cruel to her. Yet, she would always look fondly upon the past. And for the future, oh, the dreams she had for the future!"

Herakles's face set into a heavy frown, "And yet, you damned her by giving her a child."

Poseidon flinched, looking down at his lap, "...I will not deny that I've burdened them with harsh fates, Perseus especially," he looked up, "But I don't regret what happened."

"None of us ever do," Herakles said beneath his breath. He turned to face his uncle, "But, surely you realize that Father won't take this lying down. Forget the oath, he'll accuse you of having this child to fulfill the Great Prophecy."

Poseidon scoffed, "What does he have to fear? He already has a child of his own that can fulfill the Great Prophecy." His eyes softened, "Besides, it's not that prophecy I fear," he mumbled.

"Hmm?" Herakles leaned closer, "What was that?"

Poseidon said nothing, instead staring up at him with a calculating look. "You know…Sally made me swear to not interfere in our son's life," a pit formed in Herakles's stomach, "But you..." he trailed off.

Herakles stared silently at his uncle, before finally coughing into his hands, "Forgive me, Uncle, but I do believe your age has finally gotten to you."

Poseidon shook his head, standing up, "No, I am serious."

Herakles scoffed, "You do know who my father is, right? Who my wife's parents are?"

"It will be fine. My brother is too busy watching his own demigod to care about anything else."

"And his wife?"

Poseidon chuckled, "Since when does she care what you do?"

Herakles had to concede that fact.

Poseidon's features softened once more, "Just…Sally is about to make a noble, but terrible decision. All I ask is that you make it so that she doesn't have to do such a thing."

He had no idea what that meant, but regardless, he shook his head, "Uncle, I can't…" he trailed off.

Poseidon nodded his head, "I know that I ask for a lot, and at the end of the day, I cannot force you to act along with my wishes. I just ask that you consider my request."

Herakles huffed, "…I shall…consider it."

Poseidon smiled, nodding his head in thanks. Without saying another word, he turned to the edge of the cliff, jumping off and disappearing into the sea.

Herakles stared out onto the horizon, before hopping down himself; only instead of jumping into the sea, he stopped himself on a large rock battered by the waves.

After searching for a moment, he found a steady enough rainbow in the sea's mist. Pulling a gold Drachma from his pocket, he intoned, "Oh Iris, Goddess of rainbows, accept my offering. Show me Anicetus and Alexiares, in New York City," he paused momentarily, "East One-Hundred-and-Fourth and First."

The mist shimmered, somewhat violently, and soon after the image of Alexiares, but not Anicetus, shone through. Herakles frowned, "Alexiares, where is your brother?"

The youthful god looked up, setting aside his sword and whetstone, "Ah, hello father. Anicetus left a bit ago to follow Sally; she entered a cab and went East. Did your talk go well?"

Herakles scowled, "Uncle is…hiding something about Perseus," his scowl softened into a frown, "However, he does care about them."

Alexiares snorted, "Yes, that's what all you lust-addled adults say about your mortal conquests." At his father's pointed stare, he leaned forward, "Wait, you're serious?"

Herakles nodded. "How is the boy?"

Alexiares shrugged, "Well enough. Staying with an elderly neighbor—thoroughly mortal, I assure you." He pursed his lips, "So, now that you've had your talk, what do you want to do?"

Herakles pinched the bridge of his nose, "…I'll let you know when I arrive."

His son nodded, "Very well. What of Anicetus?"

"Leave him be, for now."

Another nod, "Ok. See you, father."

Herakles nodded, waving his hand through the mist, destroying the image.

Once the rainbow fully dissipated, Herakles sat down, burying his face in his hands. What to do, what to do?

Well, he had three clear choices: leave the boy and his mother be, help them however he could, or report them to Zeus. He scoffed as he rattled off the third option, knowing in his heart that he could never damn an innocent child like that.

So that left him with two paths, either of which (regardless of what Poseidon said) would piss off a powerful relative. But whose ire would he risk? The Lord of the Sky's? Or the Lord of the Sea's?

_*SNIP_ _*_

Herakles's breath caught in his throat, hoping against hope that his ears had deceived him.

_*SNIP_ _*_ _*SNIP_ _*_

They had not.

Heart pounding within his chest, Herakles stood, staring up at the cliffside. With a quick breath, he leaped up with his godly strength, landing in a crouch atop the cliff.

There, under a white tent, where the Moirai, the Weavers of Fate. However, instead of performing their usual schtick of spinning, measuring, and cutting thread, they were observing the loom Herakles had left on the cliff. He wasn't sure if this was any better.

The elderly trio passed the loom between them, conversing back and forth—at least, it looked like they were talking; all Herakles could hear were the harsh rasps of the wind.

Eventually, the three looked up at him, staring impassively with blank, white eyes, sending a harsh chill down his spine.

Clotho grabbed the loom from her sisters, showing it to Herakles. Taking the weft, she continued the pattern—a simple, black and white checkerboard—for a few motions; before undoing it all. Then, she reached down, and pulled out a yellow spool of thread. Threading a needle, she repeated the motions with this new thread, once again undoing it all when she was done. She then held out the loom, beckoning him closer.

Herakles, pale and breathless, gulped, but slowly walked forward. He understood what she meant; the very same question he'd been asking not moments ago. To act, or not? But for them—and not Hecate or Janus—to visit him, alone, meant that this was one of those rare occasions where things might drastically change; such as when Rhea gave birth to Zeus, or when Ares first came across Romulus and Remus.

He trembled as he reached for his loom. Thankfully, they gave it to him without fuss. He quickly stepped back. After staring at him for another moment, they returned to their work; Clotho spinning their thread, Lachesis measuring it, and Atropos cutting it.

Willing his powers to life, Herakles surrounded himself in a harsh, golden glow.

When the light disappeared, and he was in the safety of his own property, he fell to his hands and knees, sweat dripping down his face, panting as he tried to keep his heart out of his throat.

"Herakles!" he dimly heard Hebe exclaim.

She ran to his side, kneeling down and gently shaking him, "Herakles! Herakles, what is wrong?"

He shook his head, unable to answer, though he did, with her help, move so that he rested on his knees alone.

She rose to her feet, "Hold on a moment," and ran into their house.

Herakles's breath had steadied by the time she returned, glass of Nectar in hand. He readily accepted the drink, greedily gulping it down.

The empty glass clattered on the ground when he was done. He swallowed thickly, "Th-Thank you, Hebe."

She laid a hand on his shoulder, "Herakles, what happened?"

"F…F…F-F," he growled, clenching his fists, "The Fates visited me after Poseidon left."

Hebe gasped, "Why would they…?"

"They confirmed the choice I've yet to make is an important one."

Hebe's brow crinkled, before realization dawned on her, "The boy?"

He nodded, "Yes," he sighed, "I've no doubt they visited to keep me from agonizing over my path for too long."

"And?" Hebe gently, soothingly rubbed his back, "What are we to do?"

Despite what had transpired, Herakles smiled. He cupped her face with his hand, kissing her lightly. "We…we cannot leave a helpless child to the whims of the gods."

Hebe smiled at Herakles's declaration, but that was quickly replaced with a frown, "Father won't be happy when he finds out—and he will, you know."

Herakles sighed, "Yes, I know," he set his shoulders, "But we…we can't let that stop us."

**A/N: So, I know that Riordan probably hadn't planned that far ahead, but in-universe Hera/Juno was already putting together a 'Gaea-busting dream team,' which included kidnapping a two-year-old child and tying the life of an infant to a piece of tinder. Just some food for thought.**

**Also, I'm changing the rating to T because I plan on including some not entirely PG bits of humor and backstory. Be sure to leave a review. Later.**


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